Showing posts with label Paranormal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paranormal. Show all posts

Sunday, June 23, 2013

DAY 23: Unfinished Business

Courtesy: buzzfeed.com

Today’s Prompt:
Write about the number 7
Courtesy: Writing.Com

Word Count: 1,405

Her lane advances at a crawl.
She pulls up to the bumper of the Range Rover, turns off the ignition and weighs her options.
She knows she’s had an almost picturesque escapade with the number seven. Her father passed away when she turned seven, no fault of hers. She was the seventh daughter in the family. Not the seventh child, her eldest brother made sure that wasn’t ever gonna happen. But between him and her were six sisters scattered to hell or heaven, depending on which angle you approach the issue, and that made Anibiet (/annie bate/) the eighth child but daughter number seven. It made her feel special and that was a given.

Anibiet grew up into an adventurous woman who had a man of her own. The man she married happened to be the seventh and in this case, only surviving son of his side of the family. She got seven cute people in her life that she absolutely adores and cares for. First on the list is her mama, her husband is next in line and on his heels, her three cute kids and that ought to bring the list to five. Six is her best friend and bringing up the rear is her pet cat, Offiong (/off young/) the Ibibio word for moon. If that ain’t a weird name for a cat. That cat is the reason this story has got to be told.

Anibiet makes her return trip from the mall where she has been to procure seven items. But before we take a look at her grocery list—she has it tucked away somewhere in the glove compartment, by the way—let’s step back into her past and have a long, hard look at her life.

Her place is just down the street. If you count up, you should be right on top of it the minute you hit the seventh house, assuming you did your tallying from this side of the intersection, that is. Apparently, that means, you’ll have to skip the undeveloped plot between the third and fourth structure and the psychedelic shack over there which doubles as a shrine for lunatics. Now before you start asking why the stuck with woman gatto be so damn perfect like you didn’t know what the digit we’re discussing stood for; Anibiet has got a temper on her. Sometimes, I think she scares the hell out of the devil. It eventually undid her. Do not go flying off half-cocked without hearing what she has to say for herself.

She’s been working her butt off to keep that rage of hers in check. No anger management for this one; she’ll probably pulverize her shrink before you say Django!

                “Hey, Obong,” (try saying Oblong without the ‘L’) This happened just before she hit the road on her way to the mall. “I gatto run. I need to get stuff at the mall.”
                “‘kay, hon. don’t stay too long.”
                “It’s only gonna take a minute there’s stuff I need to fetch then I’ll be back.”
She walks to the door turns around like she forgot something, her husband is already back to watching the TV and doesn’t notice.
                “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She says.
                “Yeah, sure why not?”
                “You still remember the circumstances surrounding how Offiong dropped into our lives?”
                “How could I forget? You never let me hear the end of it. You found the cat at the backyard stuck between the brush on July 7, two double oh seven. At first you presumed it was just playing and would probably return home soon enough. But you made to go inside the house and the cat caterwauled shrilly that for one minute you thought maybe, a bigger animal had dug its teeth into the poor fellow’s fur. Of course, you got scared and almost jumped out of your skin. When you recovered from the initial shock, you walked up to the thing back then it was a kitty. It had spots on its fur about seven by count. You used to call what you felt for Offiong a temptation thing though for the life of me I’ve never understood why.”
                “A ‘The Temptations’ thing and that’s because they have a song that says ‘Love can be anything. Can’t nothing be love but love.’ It had a lot to do with the fiery passion that consumed me for Offiong. I couldn’t help what I felt,” she says then falls silent.

The couple look into each other’s eyes for a moment and the tension reacts with the atoms in the air producing a reaction. Obong senses Anibiet’s unease, feels there is a load she is struggling to get off her chest but does not know how to help her.
                “Is there something else you wanted to tell me?” He prodded.
                “No.” In a way, she was in a world of her own. Totally distracted. “No, nothing else,” she lies. “I gatto run see you soon.” And she rushes out into the strong morning light which does nothing to brighten the darkness she feels within her soul.

Sitting behind the wheel of her Honda Civic, she calls up her mama. She answers on the first ring.
                “Hello, mama.”
                “Hey, Anibiet.”
                “I’ve been going through some things, lately.”
                “Where are you? Are you alright?”
                “Fine, mama. I’ve been having strange nightmares.”
                “What nightmares? Obong never called…”
                “That’s because I never told him, mama.”
                “There’s something I need to tall you, mama. It’s important. I think my life depends on it?”
                “Who is this and what have you done with my daughter?”
                “It’s me, mama; it’s Anibiet. Just listen up. This is really serious and I believe if I told someone you especially it’s gonna be alright. I don’t why I feel that way but I just feel it. So I really need you to listen up and don’t freak out when I say this. Ok?”
Silence.
                “Mama? Are you still there?”
Audible sigh.
                “Mama, just speak up, I’m freaked out to the max as it is.”
                “I’m here, Anibiet. Sorry, but I wasn’t sure what to think when I heard you bawl. It’s been a long time. The last time you came close to tears was when Jonas, your boy broke an arm playing soccer.”
Her mama laughs and it’s the sweetest sound Anibiet has heard in days since the nightmares started.

Anibiet spills her gut and tells her mama about the ghosts of her childhood which has returned to haunt her. She remembers hearing her father say ‘kill a cat, get killed by a cat,’ and she weaves this into her story. Anibiet strangled her eldest brother’s cat as a child. The cat tore her best dress to shreds. Anibiet had taken the creature outside, stroking it gently as she went.
                She came to the garden and stood where she was sure the cat’s yowl will be out of earshot. She had one of her shoelaces in her hand and she wrapped it around the cat’s neck and strangled it but not before covering the head with polythene bag. She’d felt so much hatred for the thing after what it did to her dress she’d practically lost control of her temper. She stuffed it in a sack and dumped the creature in the trashcan. This was the first time she had told anybody the story.

Her mother forgives Anibiet and after the phone call, she does feel a lot better. She thinks, it’s really gonna be alright, again. Her nightmares were beginning to gain a foothold in the physical realm. The last time she saw Offiong in her dreams, it had swiped at her with it’s claws. That morning, when she came awake, she had found a scratch on her forearm and Offiong was curled up at the foot of her bed staring at her with callous eyes.
                She pulls open the glove compartment, fetches the grocery list, and ticks off the items:
A three-fold cord; a khaki sack; a club; a machete; a gun; a cat (Offiong would fill that gap) and courage (she would find that in herself).

The Range Rover ahead starts rolling and she turns on the ignition and blends into the traffic. Anibiet tears up the paper with the list on ‘em. She’s full of hope that when she gets home Offiong wouldn’t be there waiting for her anymore. Yeah, she could almost count on that.


Eneh Akpan
June 23, 2013



Thursday, June 20, 2013

DAY 20: Xcalibur

Grainy B&W image of supposed UFO, Passoria, Ne...
Courtesy: Wikipedia

Today’s Prompt:
Write about the letter X.
Courtesy: Writing.Com

Word Count: 1,160

                Da’Wo (sounds like /da wo/), so nice of you to come by where I hang my hat. Sit down, kick off your shoes and I’ll fetch you a cool glass of milk while you’re at it. It’s a fine evening for a little chit-chat don’t you think?
                What? You want to watch some TV? Why not, go right ahead but I gatto tell you son, Junior done lost the remote and all of yonder buttons are badly in need of repairs. You only get to watch one TV channel and sometimes if not most of the time, they’re off the air. I think it’s cause their dick keep trespassing with their brains or something.

                You know I haven’t seen your mama since you was five. How is she with her bad self? Heard she remarried once but my ex was never the type to stay in a man’s house for a long-drawn-out period. I’m sorry to have to shove this crap in your ears but, your mama, my ex was a rolling stone who never laid down her hat. I don’t think she ever even had a hat.

                Since you got me started on exes why don’t I tell you a little story about the letter X? Boy, that letter has been a victim since the day God dropped it among the bunch of ‘em English alphabets. Take a good long look around and see for yourself.
                Seen a sign that reads CAUTION lately? What one letter spelled it out to you? My point exactly. The talons of discrimination stretch beyond the hood to schools. Every time you get an equation right, you get a V but when you forgot to cross your ts and dot the is you are sure you gonna get yourself nothing but a big slice of x.

                Let’s take a shot at the movies. First one on my mind is… The X Files, brilliant, you watched the series? Ain’t it all just about more bull than you can take in one lifetime? The only thing I took away from that heap of trash was that I had to be suspicious of everything with questionable origin. You never can tell it just might be UFO. But I didn’t have to buy what they were selling did I? But that was then and this is now. These days we got Professor Xavier and his X-Men—a bunch of societal rejects running around doing more harm than good—a Prof that bears a name beginning with the accursed letter who ends up with a bad case of dead; ripped to shreds  like a tight wad of paper blown to smithereens with dynamites by one of his own. I’ve never witnessed a sorrier sight in my entire life.

                Look up the street. I bet you seen them light poles on your way down to my crib. Did you see them signs warning against electrocution? Yeah, the ones with the skull and crossbones? Now, what letter of the alphabet does the pair of bones leaning over on each other remind you off? Ain’t no letter gives you the creeps like the letter x my pa used to say that a lot when he was around. I don’t know, but it looks like I kind of caught his fever. x is the symbol of the unknown. Ask any mathematics genius and he’ll let you in on it; why it’s an open secret. The horror writers even caught up on the deal. Peter Straub, ever heard of the dude? Straub wrote a book, a ghastly, hide-your-eye horror about a savage figure that commits violent crimes, and guess what Straub called his novel? Mr. X., that’s what. You can almost always presume that when a child’s got an x in his or her name, s/he would most probably come to a bad end. No, I’m not wishing evil on anybody’s kid. Look around you boy, there is enough evidence backed by data collected over time. This is no folklore setting I’m presenting to ya, this is the real deal.

                All the examples I’ve dealt out are ordinary enough, I guess you’d say, but not all instances of x are of the ordinary. I got my reasons for saying that… say you finished your milk. Looks like you could do better with another glass… what? You’re cool? Very well then, I had better get on with the damned story. And since it’s just you and me sitting here on the back porch of my house, I think I can spill my guts and tell all I want to.
                Hey Xanadu! How’s them old bones of yours? That car of yours still naughty? No? Damn, I knew that mechanic was a fluke. Poor baby’s still spitting oil. How’s the wife? Not yet back home from the hospital? Damn. Alright, I’ll come right over to the house after I’m done talking to my son.
Xanadu lives right up the road by the old sawmill. Sure you remember him, guy used to buy you hot buns every morning. He’s buried to his waist in drama. But it’ll be suicidal to walk up to a man and tell him hey buddy, I know where you reap your problems from. It’s your goddam name. You don’t wanna do that not if you wanna live to a ripe old age. Sometimes I’m tempted and that’s a lot coming from me, I’m tempted to ask Xanadu, i wonder if it wouldn’t make all the difference if you plucked the x out of your name. But I’ve never been able to bring myself around to do it. It’s like the champ who tried to tell Arthur Excalibur would be his ruin. Arthur had the class act hanged.

                What was that?
                Yeah, let’s get back to our story. Where was I? That’s it, the extraordinary realm of the x. If the sound of that letter don’t ring a bell every time I hear it. Boy, you ever read a Lovecraft story? Who is Lovecraft? You didn’t just ask that, did you? And you guys are supposed to be the educated generation and ya’ll ain’t know pip about Howard Phillips Lovecraft. That dude invented a grimoire, it’s called fictional in some quarters but we can argue about that till the Lord returns. You ever saw a real occult manual before, son? Well, after Lovecraft drafted his he put a mark right there on the front and you wanna what that mark.
                That’s the most intelligent thing you said all day, son. He had an artist carve a customized x symbol up front and center. You’ll hear a lot of folks going around till this day calling that thing, the occult symbol. That mark ain’t more occult than a customized x is. But I’ve heard it can do stuff, mean extraordinary stuff.
                Come on, son, let’s get inside and go bite a big chunk out of something. All that jive sure makes a man hungry.


Eneh Akpan
June 20, 2013


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